


I Was Born This Way

by KatTheKlaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9623843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatTheKlaw/pseuds/KatTheKlaw
Summary: Ron wanted to enjoy his youth, will he get what he's looking for in a party with classmates? Can love and obsession be one and the same? “How is it you're suddenly so wild, and you know, not a bitch? When did this happen?” “This didn't just happen, Weasel, I was born this way.” Modern Muggle AU





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Death_by_Quill](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Death_by_Quill) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
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> Round One Only  
> Theme: Obsession
> 
> The only thing I own is the plot.

Pansy Parkinson, with her perfectly styled raven hair, flawlessly manicured nails, unblemished skin, outstandingly expensive high end fashion, and snooty attitude was absolutely and irrevocably sloshed beyond hope. Ronald Weasley detested the snobby brat, but there was a certain satisfaction in seeing her in a new light; one which revealed the beauty in someone who could be the snottiest cunt he'd ever met in his life, but let loose and show the side of herself that is kept shut tight. Ron fished his phone out of his pocket and texted his best friend, Harry Potter, who had yet to return with his sister and more alcohol.

**Ron:** where tf are u dude  
**Harry:** um  
**Ron:** nvm, don't answer that  
**Ron:** u need to get here tho  
**Harry:** what's going on  
**Harry:** did Finnegan break the gd tap again?  
**Ron:** no but  
**Ron:** Parkinson is here man  
**Ron:** shit. is. hilarious.  
**Ron:** you really don't want to miss this  
**Harry:** lmao, no. No I don't.  
**Harry:** she there with the whole crew  
**Harry:** ferret owes me  
**Ron:** hes here, idk where tho  
**Ron:** hurry up bro  
**Ron:** lav is eye fucking me  
**Ron:** feeling hella violated here dude  
_**Ron:** 911_

Ron shifted uncomfortably on the couch in Michael Corner's living room. He tipped back his beer and chugged it, using the empty bottle as an excuse to escape from the living room and Lavender Brown's intense staring. As he meandered through the small crowd of people dancing, he bumped a few shoulders eliciting a few irritated glares. He mumbled a few apologies and stumbled into the large kitchen where the trash bin was located and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ron!” a familiar feminine voice called from the opposite side of the kitchen.

He blindly tossed the empty bottle into the bin, listening for it to clink against the other bottles. He looked up and was surprised to see his sister, Ginny, leaning against the counter, while Harry pulled a few large bottles of liquor from a brown paper bag and placed them on the marble top island counter.

“It's about damned time. What the fuck took you all so long?” he questioned.

“We stopped to see if Hermione felt like hitching a ride to join the party.” she supplied smoothly. “Of course she was up to her wild hair in books, though, and after a long lecture abo-”

“Bored already, Gin. Spare me the details of my ex’s usual holier-than-thou bullshit, please.” he interrupted in agitation at the mention of his studious ex girlfriend.

“You're such a jerk. I can't say I blame her for dumping you.” Ginny baited.

Ron's relationship with Hermione was a long one. One of the relationships everyone thought would end up in church bells and a horde of ginger, bushy haired babies. Ron and Hermione were together their entire four years of high school and the first two years of college, but their seemingly perfect relationship came to a stuttering halt and explosive split almost a year ago. Ron couldn't handle her overbearing study habits that she tried desperately for years to impose upon him. Ron didn't care much about being at the top of their class, and wanted to enjoy his college years to the fullest. Hermione wanted someone with more ambition and tried too hard to change him. His final words he spoke to her still rang in his ears, “I have nothing left to give.” They hadn't spoken since, and Ron simply never bothered to explain to anyone, aside from Harry, everything that happened.

“Hey, why don't you shut your gob and just pass that bottle of whiskey in front of you, eh? The beer Greg bought is awful.” he quipped.

Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically and swiped the whiskey from the counter and slid it toward him.

“You're hopeless.”

“And you're a nosy little shit.”

“Alright, you two. That's enough.” Harry cut in with haste before the tempers of the two siblings spiraled out of control. He crumpled up the brown paper bag and tossed it at Ron, who caught it, and pretended to slam dunk it into the trash like a basketball player. They both whooped animatedly and laughed when Ginny huffed and stomped off in the direction of the living room, probably to dance or find her best friend, Luna Lovegood.

“So, where's Parkinson? I really need to see the hilarity I missed out on. I didn't even know she was here before Gin and I left to restock. Also, have you seen Malfoy?” Harry asked Ron whilst scanning the crowd of partiers in the kitchen and living room.

“She went out back with her pack of snobs and a couple of the guys from Slytherin Hall. Draco's probably out there with them.” he answered.

“Alright. So. How about a little wager, Ron? I know you like the girl, and don't give me that crazy look, I'm not stupid. I know you too well, man. Anyway, how much you want to bet Pans can't handle her liquor, and passes out in the most fantastic fashion in front of everyone?” Harry offered with a glint of amusement at Ron's discomfort.

Ron pondered Harry's proposal for a moment. He'd already been a silent spectator of the drunk Pansy debacle, and he had to admit, she'd knocked back quite a bit of liquor already. Despite her being outright smashed though, she didn't look to be going down for the count anytime soon when he last spotted her. He came to a decision then, and looked back at Harry as they made their way toward the back door.

“You know man, I'm willing to bet she can out drink all of us guys here. I'll take you on, 20 bucks, dude.” he replied decisively.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise and he threw his head back with a chuckle.

“Alright, Weasley, you're on, you lovesick bastard.” Harry said.

Ron extended his hand as they reached the sliding glass door, and they shook on it.

__________

“Honestly, who the fuck picked the music for this damn party?” Ron asked Harry, nearly shouting to be heard above Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way”.

“I did, asshat. Problem?” a feminine voice snapped.

“Yes, it's garbage.” Ron answered as he spun around to spot a swaying Pansy.

Harry smirked and ambled away discreetly to join Ginny near the grill on the back deck and watch their interaction unnoticed.

“Yeah, and your taste in music involves unholy screeching from men with broken hearts and hair to rival even the most feminine of women.” Pansy snarked. “Now if you'll excuse me, Weasel, I have to go make a scene and have some fun!” she said with amusement as he gaped like a beached whale after her.

Ron sputtered and watched wide eyed while Pansy climbed onto the railing of the deck, heels be damned, and stood atop it. She was super drunk, and swayed a little as she attempted to gain her balance. The bass of the song bumped hard in his chest as he stood, shocked, at the sight of a very hot, but equally inebriated Pansy, start dancing to the rhythm of the ridiculous song.

Everyone around them whooped and shouted as her hair flew around and she started shouting the lyrics, smiling.

“How is it you're suddenly so wild, and you know, not a bitch? When did this happen?” Ron asked awkwardly. Pansy faltered and almost slipped and fell. She regained herself quickly though, and laughed loudly. She looked him right in the eye, her perfect white teeth flashing him a disarmingly attractive smile.

“This didn't just happen, Weasel, I was born this way.” she replied smoothly and winked.

“Did you just-”

“Nope!” she replied seriously.

He waggled a finger at her and chuckled, “Oh, you did though.” he confirmed with another shake of his broad shoulders as he laughed again.

She rolled her eyes, and flashed him another dazzling smile. “Anyway, plebeian, I've always been this way. We just weren't friends before for you to ever notice the wild and untamed awesome that is Pansy Parkinson.”

He crossed his arms speculatively and raised an eyebrow “Oh, so we're friends now, are we?” he asked skeptically.

“Of course we are. After all, we need to be friends before I flirt with you unapologetically.” she said with another wink of her smoky eye that made Ron's abdomen tighten with heat.

He was struck speechless. Pansy hopped down off the deck as the song ended, with an ease that one wouldn't expect from a very drunk, heeled woman.

“You're very bad at this, Weasel.” she said as she sauntered toward him.

“Hey,” he stammered “I thought you were my friend.” he said with disbelief at her jab.

“We are, but as your friend, it is my duty to tell you that you suck at this.” she replied.

“Oh, so you're the professional on not sucking?” he countered.

Ron grimaced at his reply, berating himself silently for his tactless response.

Pansy sidled up to him, unperturbed by his statement, to meet him almost nose to nose.  
“Oh, quite the contrary, Weasel.” she whispered seductively.

Her cheek brushed his as her lips ghosted across the shell of his ear, and heat bloomed all the way down to the tips of his toes. He felt scorched where her lips grazed his skin and bit his lip to hold himself back from claiming those soft, red-painted lips that breached his personal space so provocatively.

“Wanna find out?”

He didn't think he'd ever have a problem with her play on his family name ever again if she continued to say it in such sultry tones as she was then.

__________

**Pansy:** forever?  
**Ron:** what's ur offer  
**Pansy:** me  
**Ron:** yes please  
**Pansy:** im a little drunk  
**Pansy:** and I need u now  
**Ron:** did u just  
**Pansy:** maybe, or maybe not  
**Pansy:** wanna find out?  
**Ron:** k. Fuck. Omw

Ron tore the blankets off himself and jumped from his bed. It'd been seven months since the night of the party at Mike’s house and Pansy had danced with his heart since. His chest tightened and his heart pounded every time his phone rang or dinged with an incoming text message. It was always Pansy. For seven months they'd spent almost every waking moment of their time together and Ron couldn't imagine it any other way. All he thought about was what wild shenanigans him and his unofficial girlfriend would get into together. She was everything he didn't know he needed in a woman. Harry called him “whipped”, but he fancied himself finally happy. His world tilted on its axis when he was with Pansy, and she was all he cared about.

As he stumbled into a pair of rumpled jeans he'd never bothered to fold and put way, his phone rang. He dove to his bedside table, reaching for the phone excitedly, and stumbled on his feet, face planting spectacularly right into the edge of the wood.

“Fuck!” he groaned and sat up. Fumbling around behind him, his hand closed around his phone and he brought it to his ear and answered.

“Weasel. Bring your stash, we have a meeting.” said Pansy.

“Meeting? What?”

“I'm naked.”

Ron sputtered, “Damn you Pansy, you do realize I don't think you're a piece of meat, right?”

“Do you love me?”

“I try to imagine a world without you in it, and I can't.” he offered.

“Weasel?”

“Pans.”

“I can't- Life is dull without you. I don't believe anyone appreciates you the way that I do.” she admitted.

“How much have you had to drink, Pans?” he asked suspiciously.

“I was thinking of you last night.” she ignored his question. “And the strangest shit happened, Weasel.”

Ron conceded to her direction of conversation, “Oh yeah?”

She hummed and paused.

“Pans?”

“I really, really, really need you, Weasel.” she said with a sniffle and promptly hung up.

Ron stared at his phone, sprawled out against his bedside table and threaded his hand through his fiery red locks.

__________

Pansy exhaled and smoke billowed out past her lips into the night and obscured her view of the stars. She dumped the ash into the grass, took another quick drag, and passed the joint to Ron, who did the same.

“So, what were you doing last night?” Pansy questioned.

“Hauled that keg back to Mike's.” he replied, passing the joint back to her as she burrowed further into his side. She took a long drag, then he dipped his head down and they locked lips, sharing their last hit, and both parted with an inhale.

Pansy exhaled the smoke through her nose, then swiftly threw a leg over his side and straddled him. She watched contentedly as his eyes fluttered when her hair fell around his face. It was fitting, they both seemed to think, that her hair created a space where only the vision of each other and their love reflected in each other's eyes existed, closing off the world around them. His days and nights were pretty much always filled with the woman perched atop him, and he found he attended classes less and less, his friends and family didn't even bother to speak to him any longer unless Pansy and him showed up at a party, he quit his job. He knew the same things were technically happening to her as well.

She slipped his shirt off of him, then discarded her own. He tugged her skirt up where it remained bunched beneath his fingers. She smirked and unzipped his jeans. He was already hard, and she'd known as soon as their centers met when she positioned herself above him. He hissed through his teeth when her chilled hands wrapped around his heat. She hummed appreciatively and used one hand to guide him, and sank down on him, crying out. She rode him that way, only the two of them in their world beneath a blanket of stars.

__________

“Why suddenly are we not going together?” Ron asked Pansy as she shoved a spare pair of pumps into her oversized purse angrily.

“Because I can't fucking breathe, Ron!”

He backpedaled. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I just don't understand why the past week I've hardly seen you or heard from you! And the moment we have time together you're running off to a club with Astoria fucking Greengrass!”

“Goddamn it you fucking Weasel, I need space! For two years, all I've had is you! I don't have friends, my parents don't fucking speak to me, I had to drop out of fucking college, I don't have a job anymore, I don't have a life anymore!” she bellowed.

Ron's chest tightened in fear, and his heart stuttered at the tone she'd used Weasel, that up to that point was always a term of endearment. His head pounded and he rubbed his temples in attempt to alleviate the onslaught.

“Please, stop smothering me.” she whispered.

“Smothering you?! I thought you loved me!” he cried.

“I did- I DO. But fuck! You're like a damn child- I can hardly piss without you breathing down my neck! Our relationship has always been free, but two years- fuck two years of no one else but you! I get angry just seeing you chew food, or flip your hair from your eyes- even the way you walk pisses me off! Because you're the only person who's existed in my world for two fucking years, and you won't lift your fucking paws off me, like some beast!” She was screaming, her face contorted in a hateful sneer and his world tilted again, and he swayed.

“You can't leave me, Pans. Please don't fucking leave me!” he was crying then. Desperately, he reached out and she reared back.

“Fucking- just stop!” she said, holding a finger in front of him, a warning, setting a line that said clearly; do not cross.

He was angry then. He saw red and he yelled, “God, you bitch! You think you get to walk away?! Throw me aside, as if I mean nothing to you!” his body was trembling with rage, the thought of her consuming him, then tossing him aside like trash. “You NEED me! I'm all you have!” he spat.

“No, you're fucking obsessed! That's not appreciation, it's not love. And it certainly isn't fucking sustainable!” she countered.

“No. I hate you.” he deadpanned.

And her world tilted then, too. It had all started with so much love, but it had been all-consuming. It ate them both alive, but Pansy had always been the first one to break under any pressure in their relationship. It was why she was walking away now. She was a flame, and although he'd been the match for the longest time, he'd snuffed her out. A flame had to breathe, after all, and somewhere along the way, he'd become a blanket of suffocation, rather than the match he'd started as.

Their relationship had burned hot for two long years. And it had started with so much love, that it ended in hate.

He crossed her unspoken line, anyway, and his lips crashed upon hers. She broke away from his lips with a gasp. His eyes were pleading.

“Pans, please don't go.” he rasped.

She inhaled deeply, then exhaled with a tremor. “I try to imagine a world with you in it, except I can't.” she said. “But I don't know that I have anything left to give.” she whispered.

Her words rang through the silence, and the irony was not lost on him. He stood broken, reminded of his previous relationship that was torn to shreds by his ex, then dealt the final blow by him with that very sentence.

__________


End file.
